


L'uomo Vitruviano

by madspace



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dragonborn!Tyler, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Housecarl!Jenna, Imperial!Tyler, M/M, Nord!Josh, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements, Top!Tyler, bottom!josh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-09-13 11:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16891437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madspace/pseuds/madspace
Summary: Vitruvius determined that the ideal body should be eight heads high.Title from Leonardo's Vitruvian Man, based on The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I thought this would be a fun little project to do while I'm home on break. You know, Josh is a Nord and I will stand by that. So what I am doing is taking the plotline of the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim and essentially writing Joshler into that universe. 
> 
> I don't know if this will be for everyone because there is lots of Skyrim vocabulary that won't be explained (I hate in text definitions and *'s) so you can always look up words you don't know if things get confusing? I recommend using the Elderscrolls.wikia as it is packed full of information or you can leave a comment.
> 
> If you'd like to view the Let's Play I am using for reference, you can check out VintageBeef's Skyrim Let's Play on YouTube. 
> 
> I hope you like it, but if you don't that's cool too, this is definitely not for everyone, haha
> 
> Brief plot summary for those who have no idea what Elder Scrolls V is: a civil war between the Empire (all the races save for Nords) and the Nordic race is breaking out across the country of Skyrim. Some Nords are rebelling (Stormcloaks) and a hero just so happens to appear and has to join in on the fight between man and man, and man and dragon.

“Hey. You. You’re finally awake.” And then: “You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there,” the blonde man said, nodding to the brunette on his left. 

Tyler glanced over at the person he was referring to.

“Damn you Stormcloaks…” the thief spat. “Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was naive and careless. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now.” The dark haired man stopped for a minute, fixing his gaze on Tyler.

“You there,” he continued. “You and me, we shouldn’t be here. It’s the Stormcloaks the Empire wants; people of Nordic blood.”

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief,” the first man said, solemnly. “Nord or not, we all should be fighting for the liberty of people.”

“Hey! Shut up back there,” the Imperial soldier driving the carriage shouted as he raised the whip on the brown Clydesdale he was guiding. 

Tyler let his head fall back and closed his eyes. He had almost made it across the border and out of Skyrim with Cyrodiil being his destination. Opening up an eye, he peered at the person sitting to his right. A cloth gag of sorts was wrapped around his mouth. He was dressed in obsidian garbs, possibly someone of high power?   


“Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak,” the blonde man spoke, nodding to the man Tyler was staring at. “The true High King.”

Tyler’s eyes widened as he found words for the first time since capture.

“He’s — you’re the leader of the rebellion…” Tyler spluttered, turning  to face the gagged man. “But if they’ve captured _you_ -”

“Oh, _God_ ,” the thief shrieked. “If they’ve captured you, where are they taking us?!”

“I don’t know where they’re taking us,” the blonde began, “but Sovngarde awaits.”

The thief shook his head, “No. This can’t be happening.” He proceeded to pray silently, begging for mercy and forgiveness while Ulfric closed his eyes. The blonde man looked off into the distance, grimly. 

* * *

“Who are they, father?” a small child asked as the wooden prisoner carriages wheeled their way through Helgen, a moderately-sized town on the border of Skyrim. “Where are they going?”

“You need to go inside, son,” the father answered, voice tight. Tyler locked eyes with the little boy; he reminded him of his own brother.

“ _Why_?” the boy asked. “I want to watch the soldiers.”

Hard-eyed, the older man said, “Inside the house. _Now_.”

“Yes, papa…”

The wagons approached the town “square” if you will, and Tyler’s heart began to race. A public stoning was a terrible way to go; maybe he could book it and somehow it out alive. Another seemed to have the same idea because the thief from his wagon hopped off the side and began to sprint like a madman. 

“Archers!” a woman, presumably the captain, shouted.   


He was struck down with an arrow before making it even twenty-five yards. Tyler’s face drained of all it’s color. 

“Step down and wait for your call,” an Imperial soldier instructed. 

After descending from the carriage, the prisoners formed a line as they awaited for their name to be called out like a headcount of sorts.

“Ulfric Stormcloak,” the man with the list called.

The blonde man from earlier bowed his head to the leader of the rebellion who stepped forward. “It’s been a pleasure serving you, my Jarl.”

A few more names were called, including the blonde, leaving Tyler as the last prisoner standing. 

“Wait. You there,” the man reading off the list said, pointing at Tyler. “Step forward.”

Tyler complied.

“Who are you?”

“Tyler Joseph. I'm from the Imperial City.”

“You’re a long way from the Cyrodiil; and one of our own, too. What the hell are you doing in Skyrim?”

Tyler remained silent and the man with the quill and scroll sighed.

“Captain?” he asked, turning to the woman next to him. “What should we do? He’s not on the list.”

She crossed her arms, her silver gauntlets clinking together as she glared at the scum who stood before her.

“Forget the list,” she sneered. “He goes to the block.”

“Alright. Follow the captain, prisoner.”

Tyler brushed his calloused fingers against his neck. Beheading.

Tyler approached the beheading station as a religious figure of sorts began to preach:

“As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the eight divines upon you-”

“ ** _Eeeeyak!!!_** ”

A large shriek erupted, shaking the earth beneath them. The crowd of people stopped what they were doing and looked to the sky. A large, black beast appeared, wind gusting haphazardly with every flap of his dastardly wings. 

“Is _that_ -?”   


“Can’t be-”

Tyler’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“Evacuate the citizens!” the captain shouted, unsheathing her one-handed battle sword as the beast landed overtop of a watchtower.    
His roar shook the town, causing Tyler’s ears to bleed and lose his footing. The white clouds grew a few shades darker as they began to swirl in the once clear sky and the beast began to spit fire unto Helgen. 

“Ah!” Tyler cried out as part of his garbs were singed by the beast’s ferocious flames. He flailed his arms around to put out the fire, panic kickstarting an adrenaline rush. He had to get out of here. He had to run. 

“This way to the barrack!” the blonde Nord from earlier called out to Tyler as he and a now gagless Ulfric Stormcloak began to sprint to the cylindrical, cobblestone barrack a couple hundred feet away. Tyler took off, feet moving of their own accord as he dashed for shelter. 

“Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing?! Can the legends be true?” the blonde man asked as the barrack door slammed behind him them. Blood was rushing to Tyler's ears and it felt like the room was spinning.

“Legends don’t burn down villages,” the Stormcloak leader muttered, running his hands through his greasy brown hair. “We need to move now! Up through the tower.” 

There was a bloodied woman on the ground, tears streaking her dirty face; Tyler needed to help her.

“Up the stairs now!” the Jarl shouted, spit flying as the ground rumbled. Tyler glanced at the injured woman one last time and dashing up the stairs with the two other men. Saving himself and leaving her to die; that one would be on his conscious for awhile.

Tyler embarked up the stairs and was almost at the top of the spiral when the dragon's tail hit the barrack causing the stone wall to bust open; the beast’s left wing was visible — a scaly charcoal-colored skin that was secreting some sort of liquid. Tyler was going to be sick. 

“Woah!”

“Fucking hell!”

Tyler fell on his front as a scorching blast of fire shot through the gash in the barrack wall. The beast turned his attention to something Tyler couldn’t make out and flew South causing Tyler to shakily get to his feet and press onward. Debris was everywhere, blocking off the path to the top of the tower. Tyler looked out of the large, gaping hole and saw a burning straw roof of a neighboring building.

“There must be a way on the other side,” the blonde Nord said. “Jump through the roof and keep going!”

“A-ah! I can’t possibly make that-” Tyler exclaimed, eyeing the height of the fall, nervously.

“Jump or _die_ ,” Ulfric told him, darkly. Tyler inhaled and closed his eyes, watching as the leader took a running start and jumped from the barrack and into the smoky abyss. 

“You can do it, brother,” the blonde said, clamping a hand on Tyler’s shoulder, who could only nod, meekly. He followed in suit and ran, leaping at the last moment and propelling himself through the air. Tyler brought his forearms up to his face, bracing for impact as he began descending into the smoke before landing with a loud thump. He was on his feet as quickly as he was down and began to maneuver his way through the… bedroom? Tyler was rushing to get to the first floor, the obstacles of beds, wooden columns and barrels not helping him out any. He spotted an opening in the floor and jumped through it with a thud as he found himself following one of the Stormcloaks outside of the damaged home. 

Soot from the multitude of fires was everywhere, coating the town of Helgen in smoky, dark ash.

“Imperial! Come with me and we will escape across the border!” one voice shouted. It was one of Tyler’s own, an Imperial. Well, an Imperial soldier.

“Brother, you must come with me!” the blonde Nord shouted as he ran to the North-most Keep. 

Tyler had to make a decision, a rash one. Join his kind and escape Skyrim, like he’d initially intended, or stay with the man who had been looking out for him from the very first moment.

Any sense Tyler once had vanished as he ran towards the Nord, ignoring the obscenities the soldier was yelling at him.

* * *

When the sweeping door to the Helgen Keep closed, Tyler caught his breath. He was safe though his ears were ringing. The blonde Nord instructed Tyler to put on looted armor, introducing himself as he handed Tyler a dagger.

“Ralof of Riverwood.”

“Tyler. Imperial City in Cryodiil.”

“Imperial City?” Ralof asked, incredulously as Tyler equipped some shin guards. “Figured you were an Imperial, but what the hell are you doing in Skyrim; and as a civilian at that?" No response. "You are aware your that people are acting as a militia in the persecution of Nords, yeah?”

“Had no idea it was like this,” Tyler spat, his saliva black. He could feel the soot in his lungs. “We are told our men are heroes keeping the peace in this land.”

“No kidding?”

It was a labyrinth, the Helgen Keep. From outside the stone walls, Tyler could hear the winged beast’s screeches. It was unsettling to say the least.

“I hope the Lord finds it within his grace to keep the Jarl safe,” Ralof mumbled as he and Tyler jogged through the damp, cobblestone corridors. Tyler wasn’t sure where they were headed, but he knew it best not to ask. 

The path went on for what felt like eternity and Tyler was beginning to feel it in his chest; the inside of his throat felt like it was bleeding and he had a cramp in his side from the strenuous pressure he was putting on his body. The deeper they pilgrimaged into the Keep, the less structured it appeared. In fact, it was starting to look like catacombs. There were giant spider’s nests — cocoons — hanging from the top of the vast cave and Tyler was amazed. It was sort of pretty in a maladjusted way to see them glisten a pale cornflower blue from the water that streamed beneath.

“Watch your step,” Ralof warned, pulling Tyler from his daydreams as he crossed the water on small yet secure stepping stones.

* * *

They continued onward, but it was when Tyler was just about out of steam that a small light appeared at the end of the tunnel.

“That looks like a way out!” Ralof hollered. “I knew we’d make it!”

Something wet collected in Tyler’s ducts as he let out shallow breaths; his pace quickened. They’d escaped what had felt like certain doom. As Ralof and Tyler sprinted towards the illumination, Tyler felt like he was flying, his feet were light like feathers as he flew for the exit.

Blinding white filled his senses. He was finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @leave-the-city


	2. Covenant

“No way to know if anyone else made it out alive,” Ralof grunted as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. “But this place is going to be swarming with Imperial soldiers soon enough. We’d better clear out of here.”

Tyler was half-listening as his eyes wandered over the breathtaking scenery. There was scarce snow on the ground and the mountain was littered with tall, evergreen trees. The sky was pale blue, almost white, and the varying rocks were a cool-slate pigment, not to mention the receding mountains were like a scene out of an Impressionism painting. Tyler had never seen anything like it before, but he ultimately decided that he loved it. Especially the trees.

“Was that... a dragon?” he asked, his throat dry and lungs still heavy with smog.

Ralof nodded, vaguely, as if he didn’t want to confirm it.

A dragon in Skyrim. It couldn’t have been, but it  _was_.

“So where do we go from here?” Tyler asked, apathetically. Skyrim was foreign,  _he_  was foreign.

“It’s probably best if we split up. I must venture to Windhelm to find out the truth... Ah, my sister, Gerdur, runs the mill in Riverwood, just North of here. I’m sure she’d help you out if you let her know I sent you. Though,” Ralof continued, “now that you’ve seen the true face of the Empire here today, I hope that you consider joining the fight to freedom and liberation for the Nordic people— hell, for all of Skyrim.” Tyler said nothing.

“Good luck, my brother.”

* * *

It was nearly nightfall when Tyler had reached Riverwood courtesy of Ralof’s thorough directions. He had a made it almost completely unscathed with the exception of a run in with a wolf. Tyler struck the beast’s heart with his stolen dagger, but only after the wolf’s claws had gotten his left cheek. He’d have to heal it soon so it wouldn’t scar.

Finding Gerdur wasn’t too difficult seeing as she looked almost identical to Ralof— though she had a few years on him. Her dirty blonde hair was tied back in a low pony and she was wearing a tan dress that ended just above her ankles. Her fingers were rough looking, her posture nearly perfect.

“Are you looking for work?” Gerdur asked, eyeing Tyler up and down skeptically. He had the dark hair, eyes and skin of an Imperial. The pinched nose and red lips didn’t help his case— she was right to be wary.

“Your brother, Ralof, sent me,” Tyler clarified. “We survived execution together in Helgen this morning.”

“Ralof? Please tell me my brother is unharmed?”

“He was headed to Windhelm last I saw him; something about the Stormcloaks.”

Color returned to her face, yet her expression hardened.

“I see.”

“Ma’am, do you have any supplies I could take?” Tyler urged as his stomach cramped. It had been just over a day since his last meal.

“Of course; my home is open to you. You can take a bath and clean that nasty wound while I prepare you a dinner. And if there’s anything else you need, just let me know.” A pause. “But… about what happened in Helgen… Some of my fellow townspeople are saying they’ve seen a  _dragon_  flying about in the sky?” She whispered the last part and Tyler didn’t blame her. It was just so damn mind boggling.

“A dragon attacked Helgen and destroyed the entire village. I-I’m not quite sure why, either; Ralof said he’s going to Windhelm to get answers.”

“But…  _dragons_ … They can’t possibly exist apart from stories our grandparents told us as children?” Tyler said nothing. “First war, now dragons… We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun to send whatever troops he can.” Her eyes glimmered as an idea flickered through her mind. “Could... would you possibly do that for us? I-we… The people of Riverwood would be forever in your debt.”

Tyler was about to decline when Ralof’s face crossed through his mind. He owed the man that much.

“I can take your message to Whiterun,” the Imperial decided, though not without some discomfort. “I will need an escort, however. I mean... I don’t have the muscle or the knowledge of this land to do the trek myself.”

Gerdur’s light brown eyes scanned Tyler’s face searching for an ounce false intent.

“You’re willing to commit treason for my people?”

Tyler didn’t hesitate, “It’s the least I can do.”

* * *

Gerdur graciously brought Tyler back to her home, where she showed him the bath and promised to have a hot bowl of beef stew ready for him when he got out. Tyler unclasped his gauntlets and yanked off his leather boots. He stripped out of his belted tunic and examined himself in the mirror. He looked rather gaunt from the exertion. The Imperial sighed upon examining the three, large claw marks on his left cheek. He summoned up the energy to use a simple fast healing spell and watched as a peach colored light emulated from his hand and engulfed the open wounds on his face. He didn’t have the stamina to heal all of the other ones tonight but who was a man of his time without a few battle scars? As the magical light dimmed, the scratches on his cheek were now gone. And the dirt under his nails was that of which only a bath would fix.

Tyler lowered himself into his heated bath, hissing as the scalding water made contact with his bodily scrapes and cuts.

“ _Mmfh_ …!” he grunted, squirming in the water. Tyler grit his teeth, allowing himself to get somewhat situated, all while trying to ignore the way the grimy brown and red residue filtered into the tub water.

He soaked in the bath for a good twenty minutes, scrubbing the grime and grit away, leaving tanned skin visible and flushed. When he got out, he put on the simple brown tunic and matching bottoms that Gerdur had laid out for him although he was a bit scrawny for the Nordic garbs. But Tyler felt clean, like an Imperial should. He wasn’t of some grotesque or barbaric upbringing. Imperials were scholarly, eloquent— they had manners and Tyler was no exception. But he was sort of shifting alliance to the Stormcloaks at the moment, so identifying as an Imperial seemed rather moot. Not wanting to dwell on his current predicament any further, Tyler sighed and forced it out of his conscious thought. As knuckles rapped on the bathroom door and Gerdur’s voice was letting him know that he was needed downstairs.

“I’ll be just a minute,” Tyler called as he finished getting dressed.

* * *

As the Imperial made his way down to the first level of the house, Tyler saw Gerdur and a stranger by the fire. The blonde Nordic woman was stirring the black cauldron that was overtop the crackling flames while the man was laughing, presumably at something Gerdur had just said.

Tyler cleared his throat and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him.

“Ah! Tyler, there you are. How was your bath?”

“Much needed,” he nodded. “Thank you, again, for your hospitality.”

Placing a hand on the stranger’s shoulder, Gerdur said, “Tyler, this is Josh Dun of Winterhold; he will be escorting you to Windhelm.”

Tyler glanced over at the man, who was rather short to his dismay. However, upon closer look Tyler discovered that he was strong— sturdy if you will. The guy’s arms were meaty and burly, and because he was wearing a roughspun tunic, Tyler was able to see the strength of his upper body rather well. The man had splendid muscle definition that the Imperial man couldn’t help but envy.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a  _Nord_?” Tyler asked, skeptically, his eyes locked on Josh’s coffee bean-colored locks.

Josh tilted his head and snorted, running a hand through his dark mohawk.

“What’s it to you?”

Tyler blinked. “Aren’t Nords supposed to have light hair?”

“That kinda logic will get you killed here in Skyrim,  _Imperial City,_ ” the man asserted, though not without a light-hearted playfulness.

Tyler raised his chin, absently, as Gerdur poured him a bowl of steaming stew.

“You boys sit,” she hummed, setting Tyler’s dinner on the wooden table to the left of the fire. “Some ale?”

“No thank you,” Tyler refused. “I don’t drink.”

Josh’s eyes narrowed, “How old are you, kid?”

“Twenty.” He broke off a piece of bread from the loaf that lay in front of him and dunked the carb into the stew, taking a sloppy bite. Josh stared in amusement as he feasted.

“We’ll need to go to the smithy tomorrow,” the Nordic man explained. “Get you a shield and weapon.”

“I copped a dagger earlier today,” Tyler said with a stuffed mouth.

“A shield then. Do you have armor?”

“Who do you think I am?” Tyler scoffed, chugging down a glass of lukewarm milk that had been placed out for him. 

“Bit of a pistol, eh?” Josh snorted to which Tyler promptly ignored. “I must get my greatsword sharpened for tomorrow’s journey. And as for Whiterun, it should only take us a little over half a day to get there if we leave bright and early.”

Tyler gave him a curt nod as he shoved a spoon full of stewed carrots into his mouth.

Josh couldn’t help but chuckle.

“A good eater,” he commented, warm eyed as he watched the skinny boy stuff himself.

“That he is,” Gerdur agreed, arms crossed and smile, broad.

* * *

Josh was outside, bright and early, like he had promised the night before. He was wearing a sleeveless, fur garb and dark brown bottoms which wasn’t much different from what he was sporting last night. Given the light of early morning, Tyler noticed how pale the Nord’s skin was. In fact, it was so chalky that Tyler could see a billion freckles coating the white skin. Josh wore a furskin backpack that he mentioned held apples, cheese and a cantin for them to share. Also mounted on his back was a giant, ebony greatsword. Josh’s fur boots looked warm, but his arms were naked.

“Won’t you be cold?” Tyler asked as they headed to the blacksmith. There wasn’t any snow on the terrain like there had been after Ralof and he had existed the Helgen Keep, but the morning air had a bite to it. Tyler was shivering just looking at him.

“Nordic bodies are resistant to the cold; I’m surprised you don’t know that.”

Tyler shrugged. “They never really teach us about the Nordic race in the Imperial City.”

Josh’s expression fell.

“Makes sense, I guess.” It was quiet after that, and Tyler felt foolish for uttering such a mindless thing.

When they approached the smithy, Josh asked Tyler to wait outside. The latter shrugged, but didn’t argue.

Josh came out approximately twenty minutes later and sheathed his now sharpened greatsword before throwing an animal hide shield to the Imperial who caught it with surprised ease.

“It’s not heavy,” Tyler awed, lifting the new object up and down a few times.

“You don’t have the muscle for heavy armor, and with me joining you, you won’t need it.”

Tyler bit his cheek at the underhanded comment but didn’t press it. One day. He’d have to deal with this unpleasantly pleasant guy for one day.

“Are you ready to go?” Josh asked, cracking his neck.

Tyler didn’t respond.

* * *

Being outside in the gorgeous nature raised Tyler’s spirits immensely. Everything was so green and earthy which contrasted heavily with the Imperial City’s grey, industrial aesthetic. Tyler could almost taste the condensation of the plants as the dewy morning mist wet everywhere his eyes landed. He could see the water droplets on spider webs that hung in the branches of the evergreen trees. Josh noticed his amazement.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Tyler agreed. “Never seen anything like it before.”

“It’s new to me too— not so much as it is to you, of course, but where I’m from there is only snow, ice.” Explains his skin, Tyler mused, quietly.

“Where did you say you were from again?” Tyler asked, glancing over at the Nord, curiously.

“Winterhold. It’s far North from here, leaning to the East.”

“Winterhold? The Bard's college is up there, yeah?” Tyler asked, interest piqued.

“Ah, no,” Josh chuckled. “You're mistaking Winterhold for  _Solitude_. Bard's college is in Solitude while the School of Magic is in Winterhold." And then: "Skyrim's biggest academic library lies in the Bard's college.”

“Sounds like a dream,” the Imperial admitted as he admired the moss coated tree trunks.

“I could take you there.” Tyler turned to Josh. The guy was super friendly, but no thanks.

“Look, buddy. I don’t know what your  _motives_  are-”

“I don’t have any moti-”

“ I just need you to take me to Whiterun, and then I’m getting the hell out of here. I mean— I’ve got responsibilities back in Cyrodiil and this isn’t my war to fight.”

And then, for the first time since meeting him, Josh looked angry. No, he looked absolutely  _outraged_. Tyler’s heart skipped a beat as the dark-haired Nord turned on him, shoving his shoulder, violently, with the palm of his strong hand. Tyler stumbled, tripping over the large, veiny roots of a nearby oak tree before Josh slammed him into the massive cedar trunk.

“Look, kid,” he said, lowly, his once amiable voice vexed with venom. He was so close to Tyler's face, that Tyler could feel his hot breath on his cheek. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you better watch your tone. I’m going out of my way to help your sorry ass.”

For a split second, Tyler thought Josh was going to punch him, or spit on his face.

“You will not forget that you are here to liberate us from the persecution your kind is inflicting. I will not let you forget. So why don’t you lose the attitude and show some fucking respect.”

Tyler was stunned. His cheeks hurt from the amount of blood rushing to them, and all he could do was let out a submissive whimper as he squirmed against the giant tree trunk, Josh’s beefed up forearm pressing roughly into his neck. Tyler began to pull at Josh’s arm, trying to yank him off, but failed miserably. He— He couldn’t  _breathe_.

Josh’s eyes that were flaring with fury, fell stoic and he stepped away, rubbing a rough hand on his scruffy jaw. Tyler, who was flushed with mortification, stared at the ground as he took shaky breaths, completely humiliated by his inability to protect himself against the Nord.

“Are you... alright?” Josh asked, though his voice was uncaring. Tyler glared at him, hand massaging his reddened neck.

Josh was about to say something when he noticed it was quiet—  _too_  quiet. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a black figure approaching. Tyler stared at him like he was crazy, watching as the Nord gripped tightly at his sword. 

Josh turned on his heel, unsheathing his sword at lightning speed before driving it right into the neck of the assassin who, as far as Tyler could tell, materialized out of thin air. The Imperial watched in horror as the head, half severed, began to spurt crimson blood while Josh stood, champion, over the body that fell to the ground with a hard thump. Josh raised a finger to his cheek where hot blood was freshly splattered all across it. He smeared it with his thumb.

“D-don’t,” Tyler managed, as he fumbled with his knapsack to grab a pigskin cloth. Josh reached for the cloth, but Tyler stopped him with a gentle hand on his wrist. “No, let me.  _Please_. I…” The Nord lowered his hand, and let Tyler dab at the enemy blood.

As the younger man cleaned up his face, Josh noticed how long his eyelashes were. Imperials were beautiful; their tan skin and dark features made non-Imperials swoon, and Josh was no exception. The slope of Tyler’s slender nose contrasted vastly to the Nord’s larger, crooked one. And his lips were a brilliant red— bitten—  _peeling_  in areas. Josh had never seen a person so softly perfect in his entire life, and when he wasn’t speaking, Tyler was actually kind of prepossessing.

“It’s stained,” the Imperial murmured in a hushed voice as a few pink splotches remained behind on Josh’s freckled face.

“There’s a river up ahead,” the Nord replied, backing away from the foreigner.

They began to collect their things and Tyler’s mind raced, replaying the moment of his escort splaying the head of the villain, over and over again. He wanted to scream... he didn't.

Josh began to search the assassin’s garbs for anything of importance looting the dead man.

“T-thank you," Tyler stammered. "Um, for—”

“Don’t thank me,” Josh interrupted, a grim look cast over his golden brown eyes. “Death does not warrant your thanks.” Tyler flushed yet again, feeling even more childish than before.

Josh pulled a piece of folded up papyrus out of the assassin’s black cloak: “Looks like a note…” he murmured. “‘As instructed, you are to eliminate Tyler Joseph of the Imperial City by any means necessary. The Black Sacrament has been performed— somebody wants this poor fool dead. We’ve already received payment for the contract. Failure is not an option.’ Signed, ‘Astrid’.”

Tyler’s face paled: “Is there a...  _bounty_  on my head?”

“Seems so but… this isn’t work of the Imperial army. No, this was a private commission.” He glanced up at Tyler with worrisome look in his almond-colored eyes. “We need to get you to Whiterun where you'll be safe."

* * *

 

 _Watchtowers_. Plethoras upon plethoras of watchtowers. As Josh and Tyler ascended the rocky terrain that Whiterun sat on, Tyler couldn’t help but notice how heavily guarded this city was.

“Whiterun is neutral,” Josh explained. “While aligned with the Empire, Jarl Barlgruuf the Greater remains neutral in the war.”

When they approached the intimidating wooden gate to the city, the Whiterun guard that held post stopped them.

“Halt! City’s closed with dragons about. Official business only.”

“Sir, Riverwood calls for the Jarl’s aid,” Tyler persuaded, “and I have news from Helgen about the dragon attack seeing as I survived it.”

“I see,” the guard replied, somewhat dubious, unsure of his own change of heart. “Well... we’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Archers from their watchtower posts had arrows aimed at both Josh and Tyler.

“This is strictly business,” Josh piped up. “We’re only here to help.”

The guard said nothing as he turned to the gates to open them for the visitors.

“We will let the Jarl know you are here.”

 

“We have to walk all the way up there?” Tyler grumbled, scowling up at the palace. The city was built on and into a plateau with the Jarl’s palace resting at the very top.

“Would you like me to carry you?”

“You’re not funny,” the Imperial spat as he followed after Josh who had already started up the hill.

* * *

The meeting with the Jarl almost went with without a hitch. Jarl Balgruuf agreed to dispatch Whiterun soldiers to Riverwood effective immediately. He praised Tyler, and Josh as well, for coming to him with news of the Helgen dragon attack. But just as the two men were about to head on their way, a Dunmer— or Dark Elf— woman came bustling into the Great Hall. Her charcoal colored skin was a marvel for Tyler to see and her auburn hair was shoulder-length. She was dressed from head to toe in brass armor and Tyler could tell that she was a force to be reckoned with by the way she carried herself. Don’t mess with me!

“It was circling overhead when I left!” she proclaimed as she made her way before the Jarl. “A dragon, my Jarl, at the Western Watchtower just outside of the city perimeter.”

“Irileth,” Balgruuf asserted as he stood from his throne, alarmed, “Gather your guardsmen and get down there!”

“I’ve already ordered my men to muster near the main gate,” the woman replied, sweat dispelling from her hard brow.

“Good,” the Jarl sighed. “I cannot have you fail me.” Turning to Tyler and Josh, he said: “There is no time to stand on ceremony, my friend. I need your help; go with Irileth and fight the dragon.”

“No,” Tyler said, shaking his head. “I’m done. I’m needed back in Cyrodiil—”

“You must,” Balgruuf begged. “You survived Helgen, so you have more experience than anyone else here.”

Tyler’s ears were pulsing with blood and his heart raced. He didn’t want any part of this.

But as he looked at Josh whose earnest eyes were waiting for him to accept his order, he couldn’t find it within him to refuse.

“Let’s move then, yeah?” Tyler rasped, his mind disconnected from his body as he nodded, blankly.

“One last thing, Irileth,” Balgruuf grunted, turning to the Dunmer. “This isn’t a death or glory mission. I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“Don’t worry, my lord. I’m the very soul of caution.”

* * *

After meeting Irileth’s men at the gate, they ventured nearly two miles outside of the city perimeter when they spotted the dark dragon. It was different from the first one Tyler had encountered which meant that there was more than one dragon in Skyrim; not good.

Nudging Tyler towards the stone watchtower, Josh suggested they take cover there.

Once inside, Tyler and Josh split up, the latter, along with a few archers, headed to the top of the tower while Tyler stayed down at the bottom to help heal the injured.

Most were just minor burns and semi-severe cuts, however a man with bright blonde hair had to be held down by two other guards while Tyler healed his fourth degree burns. Tyler’s hands glowed that same apricot color from the night previous as he restored the damaged flesh of the Nord in front of him.

Josh on the other hand, was having no luck atop the watchtower since he wasn’t fluent with a bow and arrow. The archers, however, were amazing because they were landing a majority of the shots.

“Aim for it’s wings!” Irileth shouted as another round of arrows pierced through the crisp afternoon air. The dragon was becoming immobilized, unable to use it’s wings effectively, and Josh’s eyes brightened before grabbing the grappling hook and rope from his furskin backpack. He fastened it on the side of the tower and then tightened his grip on the rope, swinging his legs over the side to allow himself to scale down the side to meet the dragon on the ground.

Josh landed with a loud thud, unsheathing his greatsword as he ran, full speed ahead, to where the dragon was thrashing about in the open field.

Tyler, having finished up with the injured people at the bottom of the Watchtower, made his way out onto the field to provide aid to more soldiers, but he halted as his eyes landed on the dragon who was thrashing about a couple hundred yards away. Fear coursed its way through his veins as the sight of the beast reminded him of his near death experience the previous day. So many people had died in Helgen, but he wasn’t going to let these monsters wreck havoc. Not today. Not  _ever_.

Grabbing an abandoned mace, Tyler stalked towards the beast. He noticed Josh and a few other soldiers struggling to get close, though they were doing a fine job backing it up into a large stone mound. Tyler took the opportunity to sprint up the mound from the side in order to have the upper hand on the dragon.

When he’d reached the edge of the mountainous plane, he crouched, calculating the perfect time to attack. The archers were still firing their arrows from across the field, but the shafts were the last thing on Tyler’s mind as he used his shield to deflect them. His target was the dragon, and he was going to eliminate it at all costs.

The beast screeched as an arrow pierced it’s eye. While it craned its neck in pain, Tyler, after taking a running start, leaped from where he stood on the mound, and swung his mace, bringing it down hard on the dragon's skull. The crack was lethal, and hard to stomach as well.

An ultramarine orb of light engulfed Tyler as an unrelenting force integrated itself into his integument. Tyler’s face became distorted as he proceeded to swing, wildly, though the beast had already passed on, splattering it’s black blood everywhere. And he couldn’t stop. He really couldn’t.

“Tyler! That’s enough- that’s  _enough_!” Josh shouted, forcing the iron mace out of the Imperial’s hand. The dragon’s skin began to disappear, and the muscle inside shrunk as well, evaporating before everyone’s very eyes. Only bones remained.

“ _Agh_!” Tyler screamed, turning his aggression onto Josh. It didn’t take much for him to be detained as Josh tackled him to the ground. Nearby guards grabbed Tyler’s legs while Josh smothered his torso and arms into the grass.

“Calm  _down_!” Josh spluttered, his spit landing on Tyler’s bloodied cheeks. “Ground yourself, kid!”

Tyler was writhing on the ground, bloodlust on his mind before Josh yanked him up, violently, by the shoulders and slammed him down as hard as he could onto the wet grass.

Tyler’s line of vision went black and his body stilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment or hang out with me on tumblr @leave-the-city


	3. The Throat of the World

He couldn’t see. Well, more like he couldn’t open his eyes. Tyler felt that his mind was disconnected from his body. Was this death or was he asleep? It wasn’t frightening though. Death, sleep, whatever this state that he was in was peaceful.

“I can’t believe it,” a muffled voice said. “ _He’s_  the  _Dragonborn_ …”

Maybe he wasn’t dead after all. He could feel something hard underneath him. Something scratchy, too— grass?

“Dragon…  _born_ …?” Josh! Tyler knew that voice. It was Josh.

“In the very oldest tales, back from when there still were dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power. And that’s what the boy did. You saw it, that blue light… He absorbed the beasts’ shout.”

Another voice: “Well, what do you say, Irileth? You’re being awfully quiet.”

“I see a dead dragon,” the Dunmer woman replied. “I don’t care much for these tales so I advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword arm over these foolish legends.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s on our side,” the first voice said.

“Don’t sound too enthusiastic,” Josh muttered, voice somewhat scornful. “He’s still an Imperial.”

“An Imperial?”

“Explains his build —  features, too.”

“He wants to go back to Cyrodiil,” Josh continued, bitterly.

“That’ll be damn near impossible at this point,” Irileth snorted. “He’s already committed treason by participating in today’s battle; might as well be in exile.”

Tyler stirred.

“I think he’s regaining consciousness,” Josh mumbled, placing a hand on the younger man’s face. He tugged at his eyelid, pulling the delicate skin back to reveal a wandering brown eye. Josh felt a sense of relief was over him as Tyler began to cough, glad he hadn’t killed the guy.

“There you go, buddy. Rise and shine.” The Nord was helping him sit up and patting Tyler on the back as Tyler reclaimed motor control over himself.

“Fuck,” he wheezed, throat dry and body aching.

“I know,” Josh sympathized, rubbing rough circles into his back. Tyler shrugged him off.

“I need water.” The Nord was quick to dispatch him the canteen from his backpack and watched intently as Tyler chugged the liquid.

“We must head back to Whiterun,” Irileth announced. “And you,” she continued turning on Tyler, “should probably see a medic.”

Aside from the killer migraine and fresh bruises, Tyler felt fine. That was, until he tried to stand up. A sharp pain shot up his left leg and he screamed out, involuntarily.

“Take it easy, kid,” Josh told him as unwarranted tears slid down Tyler’s dirty face. “Looks like you tore a ligament.” Josh and a couple guards helped Tyler into one of the wagons where he sat with a few of the injured soldiers before they headed back to Whiterun with success on their shoulders, heads held high.

* * *

Due to the late hour, the advisor of the Jarl told the battle party that Balgruuf would prefer to speak to them in the morning for a follow-up. As way of convenience, however, Tyler and his escort were to be staying overnight at the palace. Tyler didn’t question the abundant hospitality, especially after the court mage gave him a healing potion to treat his torn ligament, but Josh knew it was so that the Dragonborn would not slip through the Jarl’s grasp.

Both men took their respective baths after dinner was served to them in their room and the maids put out the candles so they could sleep.

Each on their own bed parallel to each other, Josh on his stomach and Tyler on his back, the younger man spoke, quietly:

“I’m sorry for what happened today. I-I don’t know what came o-over me.”   


Josh peered over, trying to make out Tyler’s figure in the dark.

“I mean," Tyler continued, "on that field, I just— I’m sorry.”

“You’re apologizing?” the Nord asked, eyebrow raised.

“Of course I am. That— that wasn’t me —  and I don’t —  I’m not like that. I’m not  _belligerent_.”

Josh’s eyes softened when he realized that Tyler was crying.

“Kid, it’s not the end of the world. You fought well out there and you saved countless people. Didn’t even know you practiced restoration magicka.”

“But I lost myself,” Tyler mourned.  “And I'm a Dragonborn, at that.”

Josh’s eyes widened,  “You were awake.”

“In and out. I couldn’t move my body, you did a great job of that.” He was met with silence before Josh rolled over; he was snoring moments later leaving Tyler to agonize into the night alone.

* * *

“So it’s true,” Balgruuf said, the following morning. “The Greybeards really  _are_  summoning you.”

Recounting everything from the previous afternoon was like a messy stream of consciousness on Tyler’s end, but the Jarl didn’t seem to mind as he pressed on rather diplomatically.

“The Greybeards?” Tyler wondered, shaking his head.

“Masters of the Way of the Voice; they live in seclusion, high on the slopes of the Throat of the World.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” Tyler asked, irritably.

Balgruuf the Greater’s eyes narrowed at his tone.

“The Dragonborn is said to be uniquely gifted in the ‘Voice’ —  the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu’um, or Shout. If you really are Dragonborn, they can teach you how to use your gift.”

“And if I refuse my gift?”

The Jarl stood from his throne.

“There’s no ‘ _refusing_ ’ the summons of the Greybeards; it’s a tremendous honor. You’d best be on your way to High Hrothgar immediately. I’ll assign you Jenna Black as a personal Housecarl, and a stronger mace from my armory to serve as your badge of office.”

“I don’t need a Housecarl; Josh is my escort.”

“Never refuse help,” the Jarl advised, cryptically. “We are…  _honored_  to have have you serve us.”

* * *

Outside of the palace, the woman, Jenna, was waiting for him. She seemed small, but it was hard to tell under all her padding and armor. Equipped on her back was as silver bow and arrow. Her blonde hair and large nose gave her away: a Nord.

“You must be the Dragonborn,” she smiled, holding a hand out for him to shake. Strange.

“Tyler.”

“Tyler,” she repeated before turning her attention towards the Nordic man behind him. “I wasn’t told you had someone.”

“Well, I do,” Tyler grunted, sick of the pleasantries.

“It’s not a fun time accompanying someone so uptight, my sister,” Josh laughed, pulling her into a big hug. “Did you know Imperials and a sense of humor have the relationship of oil and water?”

Tyler scoffed as Jenna’s bell-like laugh rang out. Of course they’d get along. It was just going to make this whole pilgrimage to High Hrothgar more unbearable.

“He’s probably just got a lot on his mind…?”   


“Josh.”

“Josh,” she smiled.

Tyler grumbled, “‘ _He_ ’ doesn’t appreciate being talked about as if he’s not here, so if you’d knock it off that would be great.”

Jenna scrunched her mouth to the side and sighed. “We should get going if we want to make it there by tomorrow evening. It’s a long one, climbing the seven thousands steps to the Throat of the World, so we should stock up on supplies.”

* * *

The journey to High Hrothgar was more of a hike, if you will. Jenna wasn’t kidding when she said “seven thousand steps”. The pilgrimage was beautiful one to say the least; Tyler was still in awe over the nation that was Skyrim. They walked along a misty stream, adorned with large onyx-colored rocks. The trees were yellow in this particular location, their white trunks coated in black spots. The grass was patchy, the plains were mountainous and Tyler just couldn’t get enough of the view.

Josh and Jenna were walking in front of him, chattering away about something he didn’t care to follow along with. He was sort of relieved to have a third person with them now. Maybe Josh wouldn’t be able to knock him around willy-nilly anymore.

“Are you hanging in there, kid?” Josh asked, turning to look at the Imperial.

“I’m fine.” It was a lie because his feet were  _killing_  him. 

“We need to get your stamina up,” Jenna commented, her bright eyes scanning Tyler up and down.

“Pack on some muscle, too,” Josh added, slapping Tyler’s arm, firmly. The latter rolled his eyes, fuck these people were grating on his nerves.

“I was a civilian up until yesterday so cut me some slack.” He swore he heard Josh mumble something about angst.

“So, Tyler!” Jenna interrupted, sensing the tension. “Tell me about yourself. Where are you from exactly?”

“The Imperial City in Cyrodiil.”

“I’ve never been. I would love to visit Cyrodiil at some point, though.”

“Mm,” Tyler said, dismissively.

Jenna was about to ask him another question when a giant sabre cat leaped out of the trees. Tyler gaped at the reddish brown fur and fangs. It was easy to forget that there were wild animals outside of city lines; it was easy to forget the danger.

As fast as lightning, Jenna had grabbed a bow from her quiver and aimed it at the predator. She released the bow just as fast and Tyler watched as the silver shaft plunged into the beast’s heart. Jenna was quick as she sprinted over to the sabre cat, dispelling her shears so she could harvest the meat.

“I can cook up a stew when we set up camp tonight,” she enthused, dismantling the raw meat from the ribcage. The smell made Tyler want to hurl. And then he was.

Stumbling away from the cite, he turned to the nearby bushes to vomit. Josh’s large hand was on his back, rubbing circles into the roughspun tunic he was wearing in an attempt to soothe him/

“Jenna, some red mountain flowers —  please,” the male Nord instructed. “Along with some ginger.”

Jenna was quick about harvesting, too, because within seconds Josh was picking the petals off of the plant and forcing them into Tyler’s mouth. He crushed the ginger with his large, pale fingers and swished it around in the canteen of water for the Imperial.

“Drink.”

Tyler shook his head seeing as he barely managed to get down the flower petals and feared the idea of hurling again.

“Stop being insufferable, and  _drink_.”

“It will make you feel better, Ty,” Jenna chimed in.

Josh raised the canteen to Tyler’s lips, but he wouldn’t open, so the Nord put his hand on the back of Tyler’s neck and squeezed gently. The Imperial’s plump lips parted, slightly, allowing Josh to coax the concoction into his mouth. Tyler swallowed about a tablespoon of the acidic liquid before nudging him away.

“Lay him down,” Jenna said as Josh screwed on the top of the canteen and stowed it away. His hands were on Tyler, gently guiding him to the ground as Jenna placed a damp pig wipe on his clammy forehead. She rubbed his scruffy jaw with the back of her bent, slender fingers in an attempt to bring him some comfort; he just looked so helpless shivering on the ground like that.

When he’d managed to calm down, Tyler let out a shaky breath.

“Shit,” he whispered. The Nords looked at him with concern.

“Are you alright?” Jenna hummed, gazing down at him with kind eyes.

"He can't possibly be the hero the Greybeards are seeking out." Josh's voice was cold.

"Hey, now—" Jenna tried, a look of disapproval flashing her eyes.

"No. I mean, he has no  _courage_. I— We can teach you to fight, we can build your stamina but I can't teach you to have the will to work for it," Josh spat. "Fainting from animal's blood? You are scum."

Jenna stood from Tyler's side to stand face to face with her fellow Nord. 

"You can't say things like that to him, he's trying his best—"

"' _Scum_ '? I am worse than scum," Tyler muttered, sourly, as he sat up. "But I haven't thrown in the towel yet, and that ought to count for something."

There was a long pause, before Josh offered a hand to Tyler, who took it and let himself be pulled up to his feet.

“We still have some time before sundown and I don’t want us behind schedule," Jenna said. "Let's get a move on."

* * *

Setting up camp wasn’t too difficult. They’d stumbled upon an elevated plain, just after sundown, that was flat enough to unpack on yet high enough to keep a watch out for any unwanted visitors. Using nearby tree branches and the salvaged pelt of the sabre cat Jenna had slain, Tyler and Josh set up a three-walled teepee of sorts while Jenna threw together a fire. The boys watched with splendor as she cooked the meat of the feline to perfection.

“Who taught you to cook?” Josh asked, salivating at the mouth. It had been awhile since he’d eaten and the smell of the tender meat was making him swoon.

Jenna smiled, turning the meat over the fire. “My mother a cook, my father a baker.”

Tyler licked his lips as she sprinkled fire salts over the cook.

“Never go anywhere without the common spice,” she winked.

They ate in silence, the men scarfing down the savory meal the archer had prepared for them.

“I’m going to wash up,” she told them after they’d finished, unclasping her gauntlets and chest armor.

She vanished in the direction of the river leaving the men to themselves.

“You’re twenty,” Josh asked, though came across more like a comment.

Tyler nodded,  peering over at the his escort.

“You're young,” he murmured, somewhat solemnly.

Tyler stared at him.

“You don’t look much older than me.”

“Twenty-eight. Got a few on you.” 

They sat quietly for a bit, the crackling of the campfire and the rustling of the bushes filling the silence.

“Listen," Josh began, "I apologize that I've been so hard on you. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of me and I’m not out to get you, I swear.”

“I blame myself,” Tyler confessed. “I’ve been way out of line.”

"I'm just passionate about this war," the Nord continued. "People are being persecuted.  _My_   _people_  are being persecuted for what we worship.

Tyler shook his head. "That's horrible."

"One way to put it," he snorted. "And I understand that this doesn't affect you in any way, but you don't know how crucial it is to have you walk with us in this fight. An Imperial Dragonborn... the very idea gives us hope. You are hope."

Tyler said nothing as he stared into the fire, watching the way it blaze, pop and sizzle.

“Forgiveness?” Josh asked, holding a hand out for Tyler to grab.

“Forgiveness,” he nodded, slapping his palm to Josh’s and wrapping his fingers around the larger hand.

They touched for a tad longer than appropriate before Josh pulled away, wrapping his arms around his knees.

“You’re not bad with a one-handed weapon,” Josh noted, recalling Tyler’s way with the dragon. “You even liked wielding the iron mace enough to accept one from the Jarl.” They both glanced over at the polished mace that was sitting a couple yards away.

“I like the idea of being able to heal in one hand and fight with the other.”

“Fits you,” Josh agreed. “You know, I think you have the potential to be fairly agile because of how lean you are.”

“... Maybe I want to be big and strong like you,” the Imperial countered. Josh laughed and Tyler found himself joining in. 

"My dreams are futile, I know," the younger man smiled watching the way the Nord's eyes got all crinkly when he laughed.

Jenna returned some time after with wet hair and a fresh face. She combed her fingers through her shoulder-length locks as she sat down with them.

“The river was refreshing,” she hummed as Tyler felt his eyes begin to droop; it had been a long day.

“I think I’ll go next,” Josh sighed, standing up and exiting the shelter.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked Tyler, braiding her damp hair.

“I am,” he nodded, laying down. She didn’t say anything more to him and began to sing quietly to herself, allowing for sleep to take him.

* * *

It was nearing dusk the following evening when Tyler heard it first. The sky was a deep navy blue due the snowfall and high altitude. Tyler had never really seen snow like this before, but he was too chilled to take comfort in the beauty of it. At some point, Josh had swapped boots with Tyler, trading his fur boots for Tyler’s leather ones.

“Are you sure?” Tyler had asked, teeth chattering and lips blue. “My shoes are sopping.”

“I’m not cold,” Josh assured him. Jenna even gave him her animal hide hat, fastening it on his head.

They were almost at High Hrothgar, maybe an hour away at most, when Tyler heard the loud screeching.

He was about to ask them if they’d heard it too, but then he saw it, a brilliant white dragon, quite smaller than the first two descending from the wintery night sky.

Jenna’s eyes widened, crystallized with a terrified wonder; she’d never seen a beast so petrifying and ethereal.

“Get back!” Josh yelled, grabbing Tyler by the wrist and dragging him away.

“Why are we running?!” the Imperial shouted, his head craning to watch Jenna. But she was gone. Tyler’s round eyes scanned for her, a glimpse of silver caught his attention from a tall, sweeping evergreen tree. Jenna perched about 40 feet up in the air, aiming her arrows at the magnificent creature. Tyler found it awe-inspiring watching arrow after arrow tear through the dragon’s ivory scales.

Yet her arrows weren’t doing the job, only angering the beast instead. Tyler sensed the retaliation and he knew it wasn’t going to be good.

“We have to help her!” he exclaimed, twisting out of Josh’s grasp.

“She’ll be fine!” Josh replied.

“How can you know that?”

The Nord couldn’t answer him

“I can help,” Tyler pressed on. “You have to trust me.”

Josh looked conflicted, “I have to get you to safety.”

“I’m not leaving her.”

And with that, Tyler took off in the direction of the dragon, ignoring Josh’s pleas.

He sprinted through the snow, the ice hindering his momentum as he raced for Jenna. The dragon was spitting fire up the tree, and the Nordic girl moved swiftly to the other side, her footwork on the branches precise in execution. Tyler didn’t have much time before the beast would char her to death.

Not really having a plan in place, Tyler swung his mace, landing a powerful hit against the dragon’s left leg. The beast let out a hiss and swung its tail, knocking Tyler, airborne, backwards. He slid on his back in the snow, a sharp pain erupting in the back of his skull.

“Fuck,” he grunted, getting back up to his feet. There had to be something he could do, because fighting the dragon head on looked like it’d be getting him nowhere fast.

“Are you okay?” Josh was by his side, unsheathing his greatsword in moments.

“I have an idea,” the Imperial answered, spitting out blood. “The shout. I have to use my unrelenting shout.”

“You don’t even know how or what it does.” Tyler’s eyes narrowed.

“I have to try.”

Josh looked like he wanted to argue, but settled for a curt nod.

“I’ll cover you.” They stared at each other for a moment longer before they both began to take off towards the dragon. Tyler’s eyes fluttered shut as mustered up everything he could inside. Only fifteen yards away from the beast he, exerting is diaphragm, let out a bellowing shout of unrelenting force. The impact was so powerful and gusting that Jenna lost her footing in the tree and fell to the ground, hitting her head on a rock on the way down, while Josh barely managed to stay upright just behind Tyler.

The beast staggered backwards, in a ragdolled sort of manner.

Josh moved forward and drove his ebony greatsword into the ivory dragon’s side, wounding the creature as Tyler sprinted over to Jenna.

She was laying face down in the snow. He, hurriedly, turned her over and pressed two fingers to her neck; her lively pulse contradicted her bloody face and broken nose. Tyler channeled his magicka and began to heal her, the apricot glow illuminating her mangled face. He watched as Jenna’s nose repaired itself, blood disappearing from her delicate skin. Her eyes fluttered as she began to regain consciousness.

“Stay here,” Tyler told her, as he gently laid her head down on the snow.

Standing up, he made his way back to where Josh was fighting the dragon, who seemed to have snapped out of his stupor, and yelled, “Get back!” to the Nord.

Breathing in deep again, Tyler summoned another shout that sent the beast flying backwards and into the trees, knocking him dead. The silvery soul of the beast raised out of the carcass and floated over to Tyler, allowing him to absorb it.

“Are you okay?” Tyler asked as he stumbled over to Josh who was out of breath, sort of haunched over his sword.

The Nord nodded.  “You?”

“I’m fine.”

They made their way over to Jenna, whose cheeks were rosy as she laid, tranquilly, in the snow.

“Can you get up?” Tyler asked her. She tried sitting up but was still a bit dazed from the fall.

“Let me help.” Josh cut in reaching for her, tenderly. He lifted her up, carrying her in his arms like a child, and Tyler had to admit that that is what she sort of looked like.

After collecting Jenna's arrows and harvesting a few scales from the late beast, the Nord suggested they continue on to which Tyler nodded, numbly.

* * *

The wind was harsh, blowing the snow that laid on the ground into a mist-like haze. His fingers were frozen and he couldn’t feel them anymore, but the way Josh was carrying not only his weight plus Jenna’s gave him the will to go on. He marveled at how strong the man was, admired it really, all while inspiring him to bulk up as well.

The path began to become more concrete and defined as they made their way uphill and a stone structure of sorts became clear; they had finally made it. Tyler plunged forth, revitalized _ —  _ the light at the end of the tunnel was making itself known.   

Tyler stuck his hand out placed it on the brass door knocker, flinching at the touch. Pulling it back, he allowed it two knocks before detaching his hand from the brass and stepping back to wait for the heavy doors to open.

* * *

“So…” the bearded man droned as his dull eyes bored into Tyler’s, “a Dragonborn appears at this moment in the turning of the age.”

“I’m answering your summons,” Tyler replied. He, Josh and Jenna stood in the main hall of High Hrothgar alongside a group of men, the Greybeards, who had welcomed them, humbly.

“ _Mm_ …” the bearded man murmured. “We’d like to see if you truly have the gift. Show us, Dragonborn. Let us have a taste of your voice.”

Tyler demonstrated his shout to the Greybeard’s splendor, though not without clattering about the objects of the the vast room.

“Dragonborn,” the man croaked out in amazement. “It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar, I am Master Arngier; I speak for the Greybeards.” His eyes narrowed. “Now tell me, Dragonborn: why have you come here?”

Tyler furrowed his brow and his entourage looked to him, expectantly. The Greybeards had summoned him, hadn’t they?

“I want to find out what it means to be the Dragonborn,” he answered, voice full of conviction, "and learn how to wield my voice."

“We are here to guide you in that pursuit, Tyler Joseph, just as the Greybeards have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you.”

“You mean… I’m not the only Dragonborn?”

Arngeir smiled, wryly. “You are not the first and it is naive to believe so… There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortalkind. And whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age… well… that is not ours to know. Though I can say that you are the only one that has been revealed thus far.”

After a slight pause, Arngeir continued. “But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen…” He began to walk towards the center of the chamber in between a few stone pillars, beckoning Tyler with a nod. “Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu’um —  a Shout. When you Shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power.

“All shouts are made up of three Words of Power. As you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger. Master Einarth will now teach you “Ro,” the second Word in Unrelenting Force.”

Another bearded man approached, his garbs a few shades darker than Arngeir’s.

“...  _Ro_ …!”

A crackling sound pierced Tyler’s ears and the ground began to rumble. Josh and Jenna stepped forward, concerned for the Imperial’s safety. Large, amber symbols appeared on the ground, steaming orange. And as Tyler stared at the symbols, they began to make sense. A burning sensation began on his tongue and he found himself chanting the word.

“You learn a new word like a master…” Arngeir smiled. “You truly do have the gift. But you must unlock its meaning through seamless practice in order to use it in a Shout. Ah… as part of your initiation, if you will, Master Einarth will allow you to tap into his understanding of ‘Ro’.”

That same bronzy, amber glow began to shoot out from Einarth, spastically, shooting towards Tyler and penetrating his skin. It felt like pins and needles.

“Now,” Arngeir instructed, “die.”

Tyler’s eyes widened as an apparition of sorts appeared out of thin air and began to hurl itself at him.    
Using his shout, he managed to use his “Ro” and dissipate the phantom.

Tyler glared at the Greybeards who were in turn, beaming at him.

Arngeir clapped, “Impressive. Your Thu’um is precise. You show great promise, my dear, Dragonborn. I think we ought to teach you the ‘Whirlwind Sprint’. Let us head to the courtyard, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @leave-the-city


	4. Ustengrav

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They raid tombs.

Tyler didn’t expect to master his Unrelenting Force and Whirlwind Sprint in such a timely manner. The Greybeards watched, eyes laced with wonder as Tyler executed his training flawlessly. Josh was completely baffled, seeing as Tyler, who could barely make a simple mountain trek was able to perform his new techniques with ease. It seemed as though being of Dragon’s Blood was a great advantage and Josh was going to keep that newfound knowledge tucked away for future reference.

After a humble dinner in the main hall, the Greybeards insisted that the trio stay the night due to the incoming blizzard.

“We can’t have our savior taken fruitlessly by Mother Nature, herself,” Arngeir had joked.

They were each given their own room to Tyler’s relief. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to get away from his lackeys, but more so that he needed time by himself to sort out his thoughts.

As he laid with his back flat on the bed, he began to think of his calling. He was from the Imperial City— _ Tyler was an Imperial _ , yet it was he who was called upon by the Greybeards to help rid Skyrim of the most ferocious beast, the dragon. And then there was the  _ War _ .

Tyler had never planned to take a stance. And by doing so, he was turning his back on his own race— own  _ blood _ , even. He should go back, he thought. He should disappear in the night and go back to Cryodiil. It would be the easier way. He was going to do it. He was going to leave Skyrim once and for all.

But warm brown eyes flecked with green and amber burned themselves into his head, and a pair of crystalized blue ones appeared alongside them. Tyler huffed, frustrated, and rolled onto his side as he cleared them from his thoughts.

He wasn’t cut out for this. No, Josh was a better candidate. The man of Nordic blood who was was not only athletic and physically gifted, but even more so,  _ compassionate  _ should be the one destined for such a heavy burden . And it was every time that Tyler looked at Josh that he was reminded of everything he wasn’t.

And Tyler hated himself for it.

* * *

 

By the time morning rolled around, the Greybeards had one request: deliver a manuscript to Giraud of Solitude.

“We have written you into Skyrim's history and would like the manuscript to be properly documented at the Bard’s college,” Arngeir explained. “Lastly, there is one other task you must complete. Your final trial is that of retrieving the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. You can find his tomb in Ustengrav, Northeast of here.”

“I understand,” Tyler nodded. He shoved the manuscript in to his knapsack and glanced back up at the leader of the Greybeards. “Thank you for all your help. I am more grateful than you can imagine.”

Arngeir smiled and bowed his head.

“Take care, Dragonborn.”

Shortly after departing from High Hrothgar, Jenna brought out the nation's map. She was good that way, with navigation and planning. Loads better than Tyler would ever be.

“I think we should head to Ustengrav, North of here and then travel Northeast to Solitude after we’ve obtained the horn.”

Tyler nodded. “How long should that take us?”

“Ustengrav is about six days from here; Solitude a day from there.”

Tyler rubbed his jaw with his dry palm. “That’s a long journey,” he muttered.

“You have to do it,” Josh told him, like a parent would a child. “It’s your destiny.”

Tyler scowled though he didn’t dispute it, nodding, “Well, let’s get going then, yeah?”

Jenna nodded, folding up the map. “The sooner, the better. Oh Tyler!" she enthused. "You’re going to love Solitude; the food there is the best in all the land!”

 

 

The particular climate of the route to Ustengrav was a bit warmer than that of High Hrothgar, seeming more crisp and less chilled. Tyler didn’t like the cold— fur was heavy to wear and he preferred having feeling in his fingers. And although the scenery was brown and less green than the woods of Whiterun, Tyler found he didn’t mind. The green was glorious, but the neutrals and dead trees felt nostalgic for some reason. He just really took to the white overcast sky.

Jenna and Josh were patient with him. They’d stop to take breaks every so often, training Tyler along the way. He’d practice combat with Josh in the mornings while focusing on agility with Jenna during the day. They’d run for miles at a time on their course to Ustengrav, building Tyler’s endurance and speed. After working hard, Jenna’s savory meals were a grand reward, allowing Tyler to nourish his instrument through foods foreign to him. Josh had even commented that the younger man was starting to put on some healthy weight.

“Your posture— It needs to be straightened or else you won’t be able to get any power in your swing.”

About a day out from their destination, Josh was helping Tyler on his form, polishing the Imperial’s footwork. Tyler looked forward to the morning training because it felt like he and Josh were the only two people in the world. It was them and the trees for miles. He’d grown to kind of enjoy Josh’s company in the past week, especially since Josh was a pretty insightful instructor, guiding Tyler constructively and using positive reinforcement to combat the seamless insecurity the Imperial couldn't seem to escape.

“It is straight,” Tyler argued, tone not without bite. Josh tilted his head to the side and let out a small sigh, used to the Imperial’s defensive attitude by now. He was behind Tyler in an instance, a hand on the younger man’s stomach and another just underneath the nape of his neck, drawing it back, slowly.

“A mindful stance is crucial if you want to win in a battle.” Tyler shivered as Josh’s heated breath graced the tiny patch of skin behind his ear. Moving the hand that was on his stomach to Tyler’s wrist, the younger man gripped his mace harder, and allowed Josh to guide his arm up and swing with more power than ever before. The Nord’s hand lingered on his wrist, firm and warm causing Tyler’s pulse to beat erratically.

“See,” Josh smiled, “with straight posture, you won’t have to always rely on the adrenaline you kick up during a fight to coordinate your moves for you.” Perspiration began to form on Tyler’s brow as Josh let go and excused Tyler, saying they’d made enough progress for one day.  The Nord raised an eyebrow as Tyler stuttered out that he was going to the river to bathe, though he didn’t question him.

Upon reaching the water, Tyler shrugged out of his roughspun tunic and bottoms and stepped into the lake, wading out far enough that the water was up to his shoulders. Once he was sure that he hadn’t been followed, he palmed himself in the lukewarm water.

“ _ Fff _ …” he groaned, throwing his head back, his cheeks hollowing. Tyler allowed his eyes to flutter close as he began to carefully stroke his painfully hard cock. He hadn’t masturbated in quite some time due to obvious circumstances, so he was more sensitive than normal to his displeasure.

Cursed images of stubble and meaty arms plagued his conscious and the familiar scent of firewood and earth, _his_ scent, filled Tyler’s nose.  _ “Crucial if you want to win.” _ Tyler couldn’t help but spill over into his palm, shuddering violently in the water. His ears were ringing and bottom lip bitten raw and bloody. Tyler watched, his breath hot and heavy, as his semen dissipated into the lake. He stared at the way the sun beamed down on it making the lewd, milky fluid gleam in the light as it disappeared before him.

* * *

Jenna’s archery was something to be marveled at and Tyler envied her swiftness with a bow and arrow. The blonde had managed to take out a giant, umber cave bear with an arrow straight through the skull and brain. It was needless to say that Tyler was impressed.

“Would you be able to teach me to do that?” he’d asked, eying her silver arrows, as she sautéed the meat.

She started laughing, shrill voice echoing through the trees before shaking her head.

“Never try to teach a pig to sing," she sang. "It wastes your time  _ and _ annoys the pig.”

* * *

 

The further they travelled up North, the more grey and ghastly things looked. The trees were decrepit and spooky looking and the stream of water that ran for miles appeared still and murky. The sky was a slate grey and Tyler had yet to see the sun though it was peak midday. Cool toned fog bunched in parts making the land even more eerie than ever and the pewter grass was thin, spread out in sporadic clumps.

“We’re almost there,” Jenna called out. They’d broken out into a jog, Tyler able to keep up better than he had nearly a week ago.

“How you holding up, kid?” Josh asked, turning to peer over at the Imperial.

“M’good,” he panted.

As they approached a ground concave, Tyler allowed himself to break his pace and slow down.

“Ustengrav,” Jenna exhaled, slowing her stride.

Large stones, surrounded the concave at varying distances. Some stood alone, freestanding, while others formed post-and-lintels of sorts.

Josh stepped forward, approaching the gaping concave when a voice suddenly boomed:

“You  _ never _ should have come here!”

Three bandits ascended from the grayish fog with iron shields and swords. In an instance, Jenna was piercing one’s heart with a silver arrow, while Josh was being ambushed by the other two. Tyler unequipped his mace from his belt and gripped it hard, before charging over to Josh to help. The Nordic man was able to shove one of the bandits off of him, and jam his ebony great sword into the stomach of the other, twisting the weapon into his intestines, severing the organs in the process. Turning on the third bandit, Tyler put his training to the test and was able to swing his mace so hard the the head of the bandit splattered open on impact, pieces of brain flying everywhere. Josh pulled his sword out of his attacker’s stomach and rushed over to Tyler.

“Are you alright?” he asked, sheathing his sword. Jenna pulled her arrow out of her victim and made her way over to them.

“I’m fine,” Tyler nodded, adrenaline pumping through his veins.  

Jenna put her hand on the one that was wrapped tightly around his iron mace, and eased it up, taking it from him, and equipping it to his belt for him.

“Need to take a seat for a moment?” she asked him, voice song and eyes soft.

He shook his head.

“Just not used to doing this,” Tyler whispered. Josh bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.

As Tyler took a moment to cool down, Josh and Jenna looted the bodies of the bandits, finding gold coins and a few lock-picks.

“We should head inside the cave,” Josh announced, once he’d searched the final body. “Gotta find that horn.”

There were stone stairs leading down the concave and an entrance at the bottom. Tyler wasn’t sure how he felt about going underground, but having Josh and Jenna there eased up his anxieties a little.

“If we don’t make it out alive…” the Imperial began.

“You’re being dramatic,” Josh interrupted, shooting him a tired glance.

“If we don’t make it out alive,” Tyler continued, “just know that I am thankful for all of your help.”

Jenna smiled, warmly, and brought a hand up to his scruffy cheek.

“We appreciate your concerns, but your lack of faith in us is offensive.” The younger man scoffed and jerked away from her as Josh’s hearty laughter sounded throughout the concave.

Tyler turned the tomb door handle to enter, Jenna and Josh following closely behind him.

The inside of the structure was vast and brown, large roots lining the ceiling. Because of how wide the catacombs were, their footsteps echoed as they descended the pseudo-corridor. The amber glow of various waxy candles lit the way.

“Careful not to trip,” Jenna advised, grabbing Tyler’s shoulder firmly as he stumbled over a tree root.

“I know,” he grumbled, shrugging out of her grip. Josh rolled his eyes.

“Stop being proud. Maybe if you learned how to walk properly, she wouldn’t have to watch over you all the time.”

“What did you just say?!”

“You heard me-”

“Josh!” Jenna shouted, her palm hitting Josh upside the head. Tyler barked out laughter.

The female Nord turned on the Imperial and balled a fist in the younger man’s tunic, pulling him in close.

“Watch yourself, Tyler.”

He swallowed and nodded, profusely.

“Let’s move along, then.”

* * *

 

Half an hour into the cave, Tyler knew something was wrong because he could hear muffled shouts in the distance.

“Looks like we’re not alone,” Josh growled, gripping the handle of his ebony greatsword. He took the lead, sneaking them closer to the struggle.

Upon getting a better look, Tyler’s eyes widened.

“Conjurers?” he gasped.

“Seems so,” the older man whispered.

Dioxazine purple shock spells were shooting out of the mages' hands as a heated battle took place within the swell of the Ustengrav tomb.

“What’s our strategy?” Tyler asked, his heart beginning to beat erratically. He’d never fought a conjurer before, and doing so in an enclosed space was not… favorable.

“Ambush,” Jenna nodded. And with that, she was up on her feet, and dashing towards the enemies. Tyler’s jaw fell open, turning to Josh, who, to his dismay was already up and heading into battle as well. The Imperial, begrudgingly, followed in suit, and running after them.

Jenna’s arrows were helpful, striking arteries, and Josh sent his sword flying into the chest of one. But with the lack of weaponry, he made himself vulnerable to an unexpected conjurer that had appeared out of thin air.

A calming illusion, Tyler figured, as he saw the way Josh’s bones turned to jelly, eyes glazing over as he dropped to his knees in submission. A mint green haze began to engulf Josh as he was frozen in a tranquilized state, completely immobilized by a mere illusion.

Tyler flung himself at the mage controlling Josh tackling him to the ground. His blood felt hot and his grip on reality began to slip from his control.

Taking the head of the struggling conjurer in his hands, Tyler snapped his neck with a violent swiftness only a belligerent rush would allow. The mage went limp beneath him, and Tyler found himself slamming her down, repeatedly, grunts and sounds of exertion slipping out in the process.

As soon as he’d gotten his fill of abusing the dead body, he was crawling over to Josh who laid on the floor in a sort of euphoric manner and began to emit a restoration spell over him. Jenna approached silently, watching as Tyler healed him, her brown brows knit as she tried to understand the rage she’d just witnessed.

Josh’s glassy eyes began to refocus as they fell on Tyler, who was hovering over him frenetically.

“Are you alright?” Tyler asked, a hand planted firmly on the Nord’s chest. The glow of the restoration spell dimmed and Josh tried to sit up.

“Stay down,” the younger boy instructed. “You’ll only get dizzy if you try to stand right away.”

“What the hell was that?” Josh asked, rubbing a calloused hand on his eyes. “My body… I had no control, like a sleep paralysis or something.”

“It was a calming illusion,” Tyler explained. Jenna pulled a canteen of water from her knapsack and kneeled, bringing the tip to her fellow Nord’s lips.

“Drink,” she told him. “Drink the water.”

After a few minutes, Josh declared he was fine and Tyler helped him to his feet.

“Thanks for helping me out there, kid.”

“It’s nothing,” Tyler shrugged, a hand twisting a lock of his own cedar hair. Josh gave him a small side smile of sorts before taking a large hand and ruffling Tyler’s hair about.

“Would’ve been a goner.” Tyler bit his cheek and turned his gaze to the side, chin following.

“We need to find that horn,” the Dragonborn declared, “so I suggest we move along.”

The catacombs led on for ages and was more like a labyrinth than anything. Tyler felt that even if they found the horn, they’d be in so deep that an exit would be as fruitless as a dream. The twists and turns were getting old and Tyler was beginning to tire.

Corridor after corridor, the trio came across a sweeping opening that was home a giant waterfall. It was gorgeous to say the least and the sound the water made when hitting the rocks was well worth the pilgrimage.

They scoured the surface area, searching for the horn, but came up empty handed.

“What the hell?” Tyler hissed. It was starting to grate on his nerves, searching for the fleeting object. “Where the hell could it possibly be?”

Jenna ran a tongue along her bottom lip as she scanned the space with her icy blue eyes. They lingered on the waterfall and her sharp teeth revealed themselves in a smile.

“This way.”

Josh and Tyler followed after her, though both were skeptical after watching her step, fully clothed, into the body of water semi-still water.

“Jenna?” the Nordic man wondered. She said nothing and Tyler peered over at him and shrugged, before stepping in after her.

Josh watched for a moment longer, eventually deciding to bite the bullet and follow them.

The turquoise water was cool, almost silky, Tyler thought, and felt good on his tired muscles. The closer they got to the waterfall, the more anxious he was becoming. Jenna paused briefly, before wading forward and disappearing into the cascade. Josh’s warm hand on his shoulder encouraged Tyler to continue onward.

Plunging forward into the falls, Tyler’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, his gaze filled with wonder at the sight.

A giant altar rest between two pillars on the elevated hollow, illuminated by the glowing amber candles. A large stone statue of a man at rest perched behind the altar, appearing very eased and peaceful. As they trudged out of the water, their garbs completely soaked through and heavy, the trio approached the alter where the horn should have been. A note stood in as a placeholder.

“What the hell?” Josh murmured as Tyler reached for the letter.

“‘Dragonborn, I need to speak with you, urgently. Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I’ll meet you.’ What the hell?!”

“Seems like someone got here before us,” Josh sighed, cracking his neck.

“Damn,” Jenna spat, sliding her hands through her hair in frustration.

The Dragonborn’s eyes re-read the note one last time, before cramming it into his knapsack.

“Well, it seems our only option is to do as he asks,” Tyler nodded. “We have to go back to Riverwood—”

“We need to go back to the Greybeards,” the Nordic man interrupted.

Tyler shook his head.

“There’s no time. We have to get back to Riverwood as soon as we can to catch the person who left this letter— the person who has Jurgen’s horn.”

“And if it’s a setup?” Josh asked, brown eyes mistrusting. “How can we go off of such an ominous note?”

“You don’t have to come. This is my call to help and I will do what I must.”

Josh folded his arms across his chest and clicked his tongue.

“You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that, right?”

Tyler said nothing, glaring at Josh with cold eyes.

“The longer you two go at it, the longer it will take us to locate the horn,” Jenna snapped. “I’m sick of you two constantly bickering; it’s not conducive, so I suggest you put your personal differences aside and focus on the task at hand.”

Tyler bit down on his tongue and straightened his posture.

“I appreciate your concern, Josh, I really do. But realistically,” the Imperial explained, “we have no time. I have to take my chances and go to Riverwood.” Josh’s expression softened, only slightly, and it took everything within Tyler not to gloat. Imperial’s were great speakers— eloquent and convincing, like their vocal chords were dipped in honey. Josh seemed to find his tone agreeable, and nodded curtly.

“I understand but… But… we proceed with caution. This could be a trap.”

“Caution sounds right,” Jenna nodded. “Guess history will have to wait,” she sighed, referring to the manuscript they’d been given to deliver.

“Bard’s College will get the manuscript if it’s the last thing I do, but I’m going to get that horn and complete the trial,” Tyler swore. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @leave-the-city

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @leave-the-city


End file.
